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The next morning,a huge diamond ring arrives at my door. I have exactly zero excitement over it. This situation has spiraled into a mess. I feel like I’m in quicksand. I’m in deep, and I don’t know how to work my way out.
The following morning, news of our engagement breaks. My phone is blowing up from my family and friends. I stick to our story and tell them that he surprised me in bed last night.
Mom asks about a celebratory dinner, but I make up an excuse about having too much work. We all decide that we’ll celebrate this weekend at the charity event.
Mom tells me to come over to get a letter from my father that he apparently left for me for when I got engaged. He left letters for each of us to be given at specific milestones. We don’t know what they are until Mom tells us she has one. She never tells us beforehand. She likes for it to be a surprise.
I feel like a fraud in reading it, but I head to her house, nonetheless.
Mom and Jackson aren’t home. They’re at a hockey game tonight. Washington is in town, and my mother never misses an opportunity to see them. I’m lucky that they’re out. I couldn’t bear to read it with her next me, thinking this was real.
I walk into their house. I see the envelope. “To Reagan Joy Lawrence on Your Engagement.” There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to read it under these circumstances, but it’s so rare that we get to hear from my father. I simply can’t resist the temptation to see new words from him. I need to hear from him. I begin to read.
Dear Reagan,
My mischievous little angel is getting married. I’ll admit, I was never quite sure we’d see the day that one man would make you happy enough to say yes. You can be a tough nut to crack. But when you do, there’s so much wonderfulness inside. A heart of pure gold lies beneath.
You are truly a special woman, Reagan, and the man who you decide to spend your life with must be pretty incredible for you to agree to marry him. Despite your questionable taste in men at times, I’ve never had a doubt that you’d know the right man if and when you found him. I imagine him as a man of integrity, because you, my special girl, are full of integrity. Funny, devilish, and silly at times, but I never had a doubt that you’d always make the right decisions and take the right path in life.
Don’t let him tame you, Reagan. While your wildness may occasionally work against you, I believe it mostly works for you. There’s a fire inside you that should never be extinguished. The man you marry should pour on the gasoline and help that fire burn higher, not douse the flames. I know Harley received many of the academic accolades, but you were born with an intangible trait. One that cannot be learned in a classroom. I know you will run an empire one day, and the man by your side must support you.
My biggest regret is that I won’t be there to walk you down the aisle. Know that I’ll be watching over you that day with pride. Pride for the honest, magnificent, and dynamic young woman you’ve become.
Make sure he treats you like the princess you are.
Love you always and forever,
Dad
I close my eyes as the tears flow down my cheeks. Fuck. I can’t do this anymore. I need the whole sham to end.
CHAPTERTWELVE
CARTER
The past few weeks have been painful. My father telling me that Reagan’s business needs to be gone before he retires has gutted me. I have feelings for Reagan, and I’m going to eventually have to make some extremely difficult choices.
I’ve distanced myself from her to ease the pain. It hasn’t helped. If anything, it’s worse. I miss her. I miss looking at her. I miss spending time with her. I miss laughing with her. I miss the small handful of touches we’ve had.
I’ve done a lot of soul searching. I’ve tried to figure out what kind of man I am and the man I want to become. Reagan’s remark to me that I seem unhappy has stuck with me. I have been unhappy nearly my entire life. I do want to run the company, but I recognize that my fake relationship with Reagan has made me happier than anything real I’ve done in a long time.
Until Reagan, I can’t name one person since my grandfather who has made me happy. Working on motorcycles used to make me happy, but I can’t think of the last time I actually did that. All I’ve done is focus on my father and his removal. It’s not healthy. I need to make a change.
We agreed to drive to Atlantic City separately. We’re in a huge suite getting ready for the fund raiser. It has two bedrooms, so while we appear like we’re in the same hotel room, we each have our own bedroom and bathroom.
I asked Reagan to be ready by 7:00. It’s 6:45, and I’m sitting in the living room with a glass of whiskey.
Reagan walks out. She takes my breath away. She looks like a goddess. She’s in a long, gold, fitted, strapless dress. Her hair is in a high, stylish ponytail. Her makeup complements her dress, though she doesn’t need any. Her blue eyes are sparkling, as always.
I stand up when she enters the room. “You look beautiful, Reagan.”
She looks around the room. “No one’s here, Carter. You don’t have to say that. Save it for when people are around.”
“Reagan, take the compliment in the genuine way it was intended.”
“Fine. Thank you.” She visibly gulps. “Can we talk for a minute?”
